There were some deepseated fears of the rot spreading to England, if the simmering discontent of the peasantry of France were to erupt any further. The baby did not strike at Sebastian. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. After quarter of an hour, she followed. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. Then she would be dead, and that was no use. With this view, he suffered him to pass on. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. ” “I didn’t mind that little argument.
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